


Preparation

by dancer4813



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: And not a terrible one, Fictional Religion & Theology, Hurt/Comfort, Set during Episode 78, Spoilers for Episode 78 - "The Siege of Emon", Syldor is a dad, Tal'dorei Campaign, i made myself cry while writing this, not really - Freeform, this cast and these characters and this show give me too many feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 16:03:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8923519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancer4813/pseuds/dancer4813
Summary: Syldor feels the aches and joys of being a father on the morning of the Siege of Emon.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NevillesGran](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NevillesGran/gifts).



> For @NevillesGran (@tanoraqui on tumblr) because when I first had this idea they said they needed a fic for it, so here ya go!
> 
> A fic of Velora and Syldor based on [Matt’s description of Keyleth scrying Syldor in episode 78](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tEnHX2XiGaQ&feature=youtu.be&t=2h32m8s). Inspired by “It’s Quiet Uptown”, and by Keyleth’s conversation with her own father in Zephra.

Velora Vessar was smart, and she damn well knew it.

(Her mother would give her a talking to if she knew Velora was using swears in her head, but that was the thing Velora loved about her thoughts – they were all her own.)

Anyway, Velora was smart, even if the elves of Syngorn didn’t really think so.

So she had a penchant for running away from her tutor – so what? From her brother and sister’s stories they had done far worse, and they’d turned out alright. Besides, it wasn’t her fault Elven history was so boring – there were so many different names to memorize and all of them sounded almost exactly the same… And, truth be told, she did actually enjoy learning about things – lessons about nature were always fun, and math wasn’t too bad – Velora actually wanted to be better with numbers so she could the as good as her big sister with money someday.

But what Velora felt she was _really_ good at – even better than climbing in trees and sneaking away from her tutor – was being able to tell what people were thinking.

It wasn’t really like magic – it wasn’t magic at all, not like she was reading a person’s mind or anything. But Velora had a knack for telling when people were lying, or when they were telling the truth. When she was younger she’d done a lot of listening and watching, sitting with her father during meetings, listening to people talk and behaving “like a proper little lady”.

She hadn’t minded it as much as she thought she would, and from that time at her father’s side (and listening to conversations he didn’t think she could hear) she learned to tell what people were thinking, from how a person stood, or how they talked and how their voice shook or didn’t, or about a hundred other things.

Vex had told Velora once that running and climbing and sneaking around wasn’t everything – sometimes if you just watched you’d learn a lot. And, from what Velora had seen while watching her father’s meetings, she had decided her sister was very right.

Sometimes Velora made guesses about who had secrets and what they were, and then she would listen to her father’s conversations afterwards, listening quietly at doors when she could, and watching them when they left if she couldn’t.

She found that it was a good opportunity to exercise the “stealth skills” Vax had taught her (which she practiced whenever she could). And she’d been getting good, too. Apart from listening in on meetings, Velora had snuck out of bed to get cookies on two different occasions, even when her mother had been in her study right next door, and no one, not even the night maid, had noticed her. She’d also gotten really good at hide and seek with the other children who lived near them in Syngorn – there weren’t a lot of them, but she was _always_ the last one to be found.

Looking up from the book she was supposed to be reading, Velora sighed when she saw the bright sunshine starting to peek over the horizon outside her window. She wished she could play hide and seek again. They’d come back to Exandria from the Feywild about four days before, and all of the adults were on edge, not letting Velora or any of her friends outside without one of them watching.

Velora had snuck out the first day after they’d returned, wanting to enjoy the sunshine after the always-almost-nighttime of the Feywild, but all her friends had been inside, not allowed to play. Then, when one of her mother’s friends caught her sneaking around, she was brought home and given a very stern talking to by her mother, and, after her father returned from the Embassy after a longer day of work than usual, one from him as well. The problem was that neither of them gave her a reason to stay inside, only that it was safer and that they needed to know where she was, and they loved her and just wanted her to stay safe.

She had been put on house arrest for two days with one of the maids always outside her door, or following her around the house.

Velora had been more than a little irritated at her punishment, but the tight hug her mother had given her after her lecture, and the strange tenderness in her father’s eyes when he’d talked to her had convinced her it was for the better, even if she had no idea why.

Then, even after she wasn’t commanded to stay in the house, Velora hardly had a chance to play outside. She wanted to enjoy the sunshine after the weird half-darkness of the Feywild, but for all the Feywild’s quirks (like not being allowed out of Syngorn) being back in Tal’dorei was almost worse – she wasn’t let out of her parents’ sights, for goodness’ sake. Her friends had similar complaints, but no one knew the full scope of what was going on. Something strange was going on, something to do with the army, Kai’lena said, since her father had gone out with them.

Velora had tried to ask the night before why she wasn’t let out of the house, but her father had said even less than usual, simply saying it was safer, before he left the dinner table, her mother watching him go with a worried look on her face. Velora had repeated the question to her mother, but her only reply had been: “Didn’t you hear your father, Velora? Now finish your food, and do try to eat some of your greens.”

Looking back down at her book, Velora tried to re-immerse herself in the legends her tutor had assigned her to read, but she felt a chill breeze blow across her skin and as she looked around the room, she realized the fire had died down over the course of the night.

She placed the bookmark behind the last page of Pelor’s section in her book and got up to get her dressing gown, pulling on some thick woolen socks for good measure. Winter was always chilly, especially in the mornings, but the fire in their home’s library was always kept burning. Hopefully it would be warmer there.

\--

Syldor Vessar sat at the table, drooping eyelids struggling to stay open as he stared at the blank sheet of parchment below him, still arguing with himself about whether to write a letter that might never be delivered to the intended recipients. Or recipient, singular. He hadn’t quite decided. It was, after all, still a blank sheet of parchment.

He held the quill in one trembling hand, nearly lowering it to the page when he thought better of himself and pulled it back, replacing it in the inkwell.

There was hardly any point in writing letters at this juncture – either they lived or they didn’t. It was up to the gods what their fates would be, and Syldor had no control over that.

(If he was honest with himself, he had never had any control over their fates.)

Syldor leaned back in his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose with one hand. There was, quite literally, nothing he could do to help. He had never, in his life, regretted his decision to become an ambassador instead of a soldier like his own father, but there was a stirring of something in his chest that reminded him uncomfortably of guilt and sorrow wrapped up in one.

The gentle brush of the door against the library’s carpet made Syldor look up from his contemplation, only to see his youngest standing in the door, her dressing gown wrapped tightly around herself, the book that Lorien had instructed her to read, _The Legends and Mythology of Exandria: An Anthology_ , clutched in her arms along with the stuffed owl bear Devana had made for her a year or so before.

Despite himself, and despite the worry that felt like it was filling his chest, Syldor couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face at the sight of his daughter pulling the door shut behind her with gentle care, and tiptoeing over to the hearth, settling on the floor with her book in her lap.

Composing himself, he cleared his throat once, earning him a wide-eyed, spooked expression from Velora.

“Oh, hello Father!” she exclaimed, wide eyes replaced with a wide smile when she realized who it was. “I didn’t realize anyone would be in the library this early!”

Syldor glanced outside to the sun that was starting to clear the trees surrounding the city with its rays, the light bright enough to illuminate the interior of the library through the large windows on the wall that faced eastward, away from Emon and Thordak’s destruction.

“It is rather early, isn’t it?” he agreed, standing from the hardwood chair at the table and moving to the plush armchair by the fire. “What are _you_ doing down here so early, might I ask?”

“I wanted to read,” she said, tracing her fingers over the embossed letters on the front of the tome she held. “But it was cold in my room, and not as bright. So I came to the library instead.”

Syldor nodded. “I think you made an appropriate choice in your destination.”

He paused, watching her fingers trace the letters of “Exandria”. Velora’s hair fell around her shoulders, longer than he remembered last seeing it, and he felt his chest tighten. But Syldor took a deep breath and continued, keeping his face passively interested, as he’d been taught.

“And how is your reading coming?” he asked, hoping the question was not too far out of the ordinary. Velora was very perceptive, almost as if she’d inherited the talent from her half-siblings.

Velora quirked her lips, but her gaze didn’t leave the determined progress she was making on her fingers finishing the tracing of “Anthology”.

“It’s going well,” she said, tilting her head to one side. “The story I just read about Pelor was really interesting – did you know he planted a tree, just for his followers, and it shines like the sun whenever his favor falls on the land?”

“I had no idea,” Syldor answered truthfully, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He had spent most of his time in youth reading treatises and the occasional fiction about an adventurer or hero. There was not much time spent on legends or gods in his youth.

Velora opened her mouth, then seemed to rethink her words and closed it again, biting her lip like she did when she had something troubling her.

“What is it?” Syldor asked, tilting his head slightly, trying to determine what she was thinking.

“I was- I was wondering if you could read to me,” she said, gathering up the book and her owl bear as she stood and walked toward him. “You haven’t read to me in so long, but I wasn’t sure if you were busy or not. You’re always so busy with work…”

Her voice trailed off, and Syldor looked her up and down, from her questioning eyes to the lovingly-tattered bear in her arms, to the dressing gown that hung a good few inches up from the floor.

The last time he had read to her was when she was small enough to be carried for hours on end.

Sliding back on the armchair, he patted his lap and gestured for her to sit.

“Lucky for you, the Embassy doesn’t need me to come in today,” he said, and his reward was the surprised delight of his youngest child.

(He tried not to think about how neither of her older siblings had ever looked at him in such a way. and didn’t mention to Velora that the reason he wasn’t being called in for work was because the entire city, the entire country, was hovering on a precipice, waiting for the outcome of a war that would be waged later that day before any more politics were discussed.)

Velora climbed onto his lap, then shifted to one side so the book was settled in between them, her owl bear tucked into her arm like a pet. She brought that bear everywhere.

(He tried not to think about the lumbering form of a real bear following his eldest around the streets of Emon, not to mention all over Tal’dorei and beyond.)

“So which myth will we be reading today?” Syldor asked, watching as Velora turned the pages of the book carefully, arriving at the bookmark she had placed after finishing Pelor’s section in the book.

“Could you read to me about Sarenrae?” she asked, turning to an illustration of a bronze-skinned woman with flames for hair and wings like an angel. “She’s the next story, if I’m reading from start to finish.”

Syldor felt a slight sinking sensation in his chest even as he agreed, wishing she had been one chapter farther in the book and he could read to her about Sehanine, patron goddess of the Elves. Not only was he more familiar with her stories and myths, as she was the goddess he worshipped, but she also had no connection whatsoever to his two eldest children, apart from the fact they had resented attending services at her temple in Syngorn. His mind conjured an image of the gnome in full plate whom he had seen accompanying them, her face both childish and weathered, the pendant of a golden sun shining brightly on top of her breastplate.

(Was she with them now? Surely she was – a cleric on the day of battle.)

He found himself doing something he had never done before – praying to a goddess other than his own – as he asked Sarenrae for her cleric’s power and strength in battle.

Velora cleared her throat and Syldor realized he had been staring at the page without really seeing it, his eyes unfocused.

“Sorry, Velora,” he apologized, shaking his head and straightening the book as he cleared his throat.

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but turned her gaze back to the book and relaxed against his chest as he started reading.

“Once, in eons past, the Dawnflower was not yet a goddess, but a mortal raised to an empyreal lord of an angel by He Who Was, the lost brother to Asmodeus. She was the first to come to He Who Was and speak of the good that came from the giving of free will to the mortal races, and he took her to fight as his right hand in the war against those deities who fought instead for mortals to be subjugated and controlled. He later found his demise by Asmodeus in a far distant realm, his name erased from history by the demons of yore, but the Dawnflower, Sarenrae, ascended to godhood. From then on her established tenants of compassion, mercy, and swift justice would be carried by her followers through millennia to come…”

Syldor read about Sarenrae’s part in the fight against the ancient demon Rovagug, and how she had sealed him in the core of the world, to burn forever in flames from the very sun. He read of how the scar on the surface of the world became a point of corruption for her followers in the ages following the great war until she had no choice but to smite them, their chance for redemption spent and long gone. How after she had destroyed them her congregation flourished and blossomed. The illustrations were vibrantly colored in an older art style, and Velora seemed enthralled by the story, her attention rapt.

“…And her followers settled over Isilra and Tal’dorei, tales of her heroes going down in history as legend while they carried the teachings of the Dawnflower across Exandria.”

As he finished the story, Syldor held back a yawn that sprung from his lack of sleep. He glanced out the window as Velora took the book from his hands, flipping back through the story of Sarenrae to look at the pictures with an almost reverent grace, and saw that the sun had risen a decent amount during the story telling. Breakfast would be ready soon. He didn’t feel he would be able to stomach much, but Velora would need something to eat…

“Father, are you alright?”

Velora’s voice startled Syldor out of his brief reverie, and he looked down to see his daughter looking up at him with concern.

“I am well,” he said simply, causing Velora to frown.

“Father,” she started, sounding so much like her mother, “you keep staring off into the distance and not paying attention. I can get mother – she can send for a healer, if we need to-“

“I’m fine, Velora.”

Velora narrowed her eyes at that, and pursed her lips, as if trying not to retort sharply.

“You always tell me that ‘I’m fine’ is not a proper response,” she said sharply, the biting quality to her voice only partly concealed.

Syldor held back a grimace, recounting the number of times he or Devana had said those exact words and remembering lecturing Velora’s two older siblings about the same thing.

“I do say that,” he admitted, schooling his expression to a stoic façade. “And I suppose I misspoke. I should have said there’s nothing wrong with me, which is the truth.”

“But there is something wrong.”

It wasn’t a question.

“What makes you say that?” he asked, leaning back in the chair to take in her whole expression. “We’ve returned from the Feywild-“

“But everything’s different!” Velora exclaimed, throwing her arms out to either side.

“Velora!”

She dropped her gaze to her book, clutching it with white-knuckled hands.

“You know it is,” she accused.

“That’s not true-“

“You have more meetings than ever,” Velora said, avoiding his eyes as she bit her lip. “And Kai’lena said on the second day after we got back that her father went out with the army.”

“Velora-“

“And none of us are allowed out of the house without our parents, because everyone’s afraid of something. But then you don’t have work _today_ , and you’re acting really strangely-“

“You can’t-“

“Something’s wrong,” Velora said plainly, lifting her eyes to meet his. They were bright with unshed tears. “Something’s wrong and you won’t tell me what it is.”

Syldor sighed, reaching forward to take each of Velora’s hands in his own.

“Velora, that’s because these are not things for children to worry about. The trouble is not here in Syngorn, and you are all safe. That’s what’s important.”

“And Kai’lena’s father? The rest of the army?” Velora asked, pulling one of her hands away to wipe at the tears that began dripping down her cheeks. “What are they fighting? Kai’lena’s worried, and I’m worried now, because you won’t tell me anything!”

Velora’s tone had crescendoed to a shout during her tirade, and her final words seemed to echo off the walls of the library in the silence that followed them.

“Velora Vessar, do not raise your voice towards me,” Syldor warned, looking down at his daughter.

She gaped for a moment, her mouth opening before she closed it resolutely and nodded, more tear tracks creeping down her cheeks as she dropped her chin to her chest and sniffed.

“Sorry, Father,” she intoned in an attempt to be stoic that was undercut by a sob. She pulled her hands out of his grasp and turned away, shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

Syldor watched her for a moment, then carefully lifted the book of myths from Velora’s lap, ignoring her frustrated whine, and gathered the girl into his lap, encouraging her legs to curl up on his side and pulling her head to his chest, a more difficult feat than he had thought it would be, her figure longer and lankier than in previous years. The fingers on his left hand found their way through her hair, carding gently through it, while his right arm pulled her closer, completing the embrace.

“Velora, darling, I’m just trying to keep you safe,” he murmured into her ear, his hand reflexively patting her back as her shoulders shook. “And my hope is that you trust me to do that for you.”

Her breath hitched and she buried her face into his dressing gown, tears seeping through to dampen a spot just above his heart.

“I do, Father,” she said, just loud enough for him to hear in between her sobs.

They sat for a moment, and in the stillness Syldor clung to his youngest’s living form, her heartbeat strong against her ribs, her presence bright and filling his heart.

(He tried not to spare a thought for his two eldest children, whom had never inspired such a protective urge in him at the same age, but whom were causing him so much worry when they were fully grown and fully capable of taking care of themselves, as they had proved time and time again.)

“I’m sorry that I’ve needed to keep so much from you,” he said after a long silence during which Velora’s crying had slowed, his mind sorting out the best way to explain things to her in a way that she would understand. “But if you really want to know, then I don’t think I will be able to keep it from you. You get into enough trouble – I’ve no doubt sure you would find out sooner or later, with or without my permission.”

Syldor couldn’t help the fondness from entering his voice, and Velora chuckled, sniffing again as she pulled away to look at him.

“I want to know what’s going on,” she said definitively, blinking rapidly even as she wiped away the last tears from her eyes with a sleeve.

Syldor, who couldn’t have predicted his daughter’s decision any better, sighed and nodded.

“Just before we left for the Feywild there was an attack on the capital city of Tal’dorei-“

“On Emon,” Velora interjected.

“On Emon,” Syldor confirmed, nodding again. “Destruction reigned down upon the city and many fled, taking refuge in Whitestone to the north or Westruun to the east.

“During the last month and a half those who still stand to fight for Tal’dorei have been preparing. They’ve been growing stronger and gaining allies, and today is the day they will take a stand against this destruction.”

“So they’re going to war?” Velora asked, and Syldor nodded gravely.

Velora hummed her understanding, but hesitated before asking another question.

“Will Vox Machina be there?”

Syldor could have sworn he felt his heart stop at the question, but he nodded again and intoned a gentle “Yes. They will be there.”

Velora nodded, and bit her lip again. Then, more to herself than to him, she whispered: “They’ve fought dragons before, and won. They can do it; they can win.”

Syldor felt a trickle of apprehension at how close Velora was getting to the truth of the matter, but was then overcome with warmth from the unwavering trust she had in her elder siblings and their comrades, even if it was just bravado.

“They will win, Father, I’m sure of it,” Velora said, wrapping her arms around her stomach, indeed looking as though she was trying to convince both him and herself. “But…”

“But what?”

Velora’s gaze had drifted, and Syldor turned to see that she was looking at her book of myths and legends.

“Do you think that praying might help?” she asked, reaching out to take the book back onto her lap. “I mean, Bahamut is the god of protection, and Kord is the god of battle. And we just read about Sarenrae, goddess of compassion and justice, and…”

“And?” Syldor prompted.

“And I just wondered if it might help for me to pray to them. I mean, we invite even those who don’t worship Sehanine to pray to her either way, so are the other gods the same? Will they listen?”

Syldor felt a not-entirely-unpleasant heat rise behind his eyes as his heart was warmed by Velora’s questions. Ah, the faith of the young. Faith and trust and hope that had not yet been all but extinguished in the face of insurmountable odds.

“I can’t say I know for sure that they’ll listen,” Syldor said, laying one hand on Velora’s back, turning her gaze to him. “But I do know that it certainly couldn’t hurt.”

**Author's Note:**

> It was really interesting combining a mix of Pathfinder and D&D mythology in here (since Matt hasn’t released the source book with Exandria’s mythology and such, and while Sarenrae is exclusively Pathfinder, Asmodeus is mentioned in both Pathfinder and D&D lore, and the others are exclusively D&D). I’d be happen to expound upon my reasons and methods, since I really enjoyed writing this, (just ask!), but if you're interested, my references are here: ([1](http://karzoug.info/srd/deities/Saranrae.htm),[2](http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Sarenrae),[3](http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Rovagug),[4](http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Ihys),[5](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Dungeons_%26_Dragons_deities#Fourth_edition_deities))
> 
> Let me know what you think!  
> \--  
> If you want to see me recommend fanfics, cry with me about the cast and NPCs alike, or watch me spaz out during the episodes check out my main blog: [dancer4813](http://www.dancer4813.tumblr.com), or my writing tumblr: [dancerwrites](http://www.dancerwrites.tumblr.com).


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